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absentees in denial of bliss


How could I not
Be grateful for this life
With an unobstructed view
Of a mighty mountain
And the warmth of a breeze
Off the still lake.

Poplar fluff creating a
Pre-Raphaelite early summers
Dreams.
The Sylph in the sky
Cresting the last light
On a rock face.

-and I outside the cabin
Humbled by the swallowtail song
Dipping and diving singing with outstretched wings
Waiting for the the others in unison
To rest their wet laurels on the
branches.

There is bent tree and the mountains in royal gentry
Aligned more than the wires
That vibrate between souls
In flight.

My aural visitor in this perfect sightline
Of grandeur
Creates a Ripple effect
Tumbling skipping stones
Vanish.

We are all columns in the sun beams

Disappearing eventually in the mist.

Preceding absentees
in denial of bliss.

Francis A Willey
July 1 2013

Absentees in denial of bliss
Poetry
2013